“I said farewell to sunlight and set out to become what I became.” - Anne Rice
It’s a remake. I know. I like the remake. Sue me.
This was the first movie Matt Reeves directed after his massive second feature debut, Cloverfield. (He directed a movie in 1996 called The Pallbearer but very little came of it.) Cloverfield got his name out there, Let Me In proved just what he was capable of achieving. It demonstrated his skill set visually, storywise and technically. Let Me In is one of the first horror movies I (personally) recall where I was truly able to admire the visuals from a cinematography standpoint as it was crafted in such a way that feels dramatic in genre, rather than a cheap horror remake. It breathes life into a frozen, isolated and barren Los Alamos, New Mexico.
The dreary, cold of a wintery desert town bursts from the screen. You can feel the freeze deep within your bones. The cold depths of a New Mexico winter combined with a murderous presence lurking in this small town feels symbiotic, a mirror representation of one another. The deaths are remorseless. They feel every bit as bitter as the cold constantly threatening frostbite. And visually there is something quite discomforting about watching the frost bitten breath of a human suddenly ceasing to breathe and the powerful sight of visible breath quietly and unassumingly dissipating into pure, contemplative silence. Suddenly you are highly aware of the quiet that only happens when snow covers the ground like a biting blanket.
All of this is a perfect combination of macabre human nature and unforgiving natural forces at work creating an air of death as painful to the lungs as a deep breath in negative ten degree weather. It matches the nature of a predator long surviving through pure instinctual prowess and a complete lack of penitence. The brilliance of Let Me In is the circumvention of who you would expect to be the most vile character or characters. Standing before you is a predator certainly, but a smart, focused kind of animal attempting to refrain from mindless death out of retaining their anonymous presence; there is a kind of restraint. And then you have the belittling, violent bully pursuing without provocation and without intention of stopping their abuse. Both are guilty of terrible things, so it comes down to intention.
Let Me In, is a remake rooted in respect for the original. While acknowledging and even borrowing elements of the Swedish original, titled Let the Right One In, Matt Reeves set out from the beginning to steer more into the tone and story elements focused on in the book rather than the movie. He always intended for homage while establishing their own kind of approach to the source material. Through certain story changes, character alterations, setting revisions and visual language Let Me In respects the original while becoming its own kind of nightmare.
Let Me In tells the harrowing story of one boy’s profound loneliness. Owen is scrawny and awkward but overall a seemingly normal, albeit isolated young man suffering through his parents’ contentious divorce. If being alone in his everyday life wasn’t enough, he is plagued by ruthless bullies, primarily a boy named Kenny, who seems to have a real vendetta against Owen. The only crime Owen has committed is wanting to be left alone.
Depending on how you look at it, Owen’s exile is about to come to an end, in epically dramatic fashion. And her name is Abby. Abby has a secret that will change everything about Owen’s world forever. It’s important to remember this is no fantasy. As much as this is Owen’s story, this is also a tale of a predator that removes its husk every century in search of a new host. Owen has some choices to make about their future. What are his loyalties to Abby? What are hers to him? Time will tell.
Forgoing all the mystical, gothic attire and origin, Let Me In takes a more practical, unflinching look into a world much like ours where humans are not the only terrible things walking the earth. More animalistic than dietary restricted, this is vampirism in its most rudimentary, most feral and bleak setting aside any kind of attempt at making this kind of living anything other than damning and forlorn. In this reality, everlasting life is a curse filled with heartache and brutality.
Kodi Smit-McPhee as Owen is brilliantly pathetic. He utilizes his physical nature to great extent making him prime bully bait. His earnestness for human connection is deliriously upsetting leaving him painfully exposed for any and all stronger forces looking to carry out their will through him. He can be bullied and potentially irrevocably damaged or take a more volatile but protected path where his companion will protect him but as we witness with her previous protector, Owen will face immense burden and danger to remain loyal to his great love, Abby. Each choice seems less than ideal for poor Owen.
Quietly powerful but effortlessly empathetic, Chloë Grace Moretz at this stage in her career proved yet again she is a talent well beyond her years. She can be convincing in her viciousness as equally as her capacity for tenderness and acceptance. She is a force of nature as Abby, a reluctant vampire trying to remain hopelessly, maddeningly anonymous.
Let Me In is dreary, unforgiving vampire lore as it was meant to be told. As Bram Stoker told the unflinching story of Dracula, Let Me In is a more updated look at a fantasy world often decorated and dressed up to look appealing rather than stark and ceaseless. If vampires existed, I imagine this is what it might look like. Brutal, bloody, lonely, sad, never ending and grim. A terrifying thought of reality, a perfectly executed story of horror.
Rated R For: strong bloody horror violence, language and a brief sexual situation
Runtime: 116 minutes
After Credits Scene: No
Genre: Horror, Drama, Fantasy
Starring: Kodi Smit-McPhee, Chloë Grace Moretz, Richard Jenkins, Elias Koteas
Directed By: Matt Reeves
Out of 10
Story: 9/ Acting: 10/ Directing: 9.5/ Visuals: 9
OVERALL: 9.5/10
Buy to Own: Yes.
Check out the trailer below:
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